Namgung Jong was left speechless, flustered not just from losing the duel, but also from being given advice on martial arts.

But I was being sincere.

“In my view, the sword of the Namgung Clan ultimately seeks to reach the heavens, to become the heavens. Am I wrong?”

“You’re not.”

“And the Limitless Sky Blade Art and the Sovereign Sword Form—they must all be different interpretations of what the ‘heavens’ mean, correct?”

“That too is true.”

“Then, Brother Namgung, what do the heavens mean to you?”

“Perhaps… because the Sword King uses the Sovereign Sword Form, you thought you should primarily master that form as well, since you’ll be clan head someday—”

“Guh!”

Namgung Jong faltered, swallowing hard as if struck.

But I wasn’t finished yet.

“It’s presumptuous of me to speak on the Namgung Clan’s martial arts or about you, the future clan head, but… as a fellow swordsman, allow me to say this: the sword hilt must always be held in your own hand.”

“My own?”

“Yes. Following in the footsteps of a great father like the Sword King is admirable. But that must be a choice made wholly by your own will.”

“I have always wielded my sword by my own will.”

“Do you truly believe that? Could it be you never gave it much thought—believing that, as the future clan head, you had to master the Sovereign Sword Form, since only the clan head may learn it?”

“…Kuh!”

“And perhaps… somewhere in your heart, you wanted the Sword King to acknowledge you.”

“S-Stop!”

“Why did you falter just at the end, after doing so well? Doesn’t this feel like an anticlimactic conclusion?”

“Of course, it’s not wrong to desire recognition, or to want to carry the Namgung Clan’s legacy. Nor is it wrong to admire someone and wish to emulate them. What I’m asking is—was that truly a decision made by your own desire?”

“I…”

“If it was simply inertia from childhood, a vague habit taken for granted—then I’d say it’s worth reevaluating. Just like you did today.”

“Do not be swayed by anything. Just hone the sword you hold within your heart, with complete will. And the moment you grip that blade forged by your true self…”

That is the path that leads to Divine Sword Unity.

I didn’t say that last part aloud.

Partly because I felt I was forcing too much of my own path onto him, and partly because I knew—had known from before regression—that Namgung Jong would eventually find his own way.

Also, a small part was due to Seorin, who, off in the distance, was flapping her short arms and motioning for me to zip my lips.

The mood had quieted. Seorin cautiously stepped forward and cleared her throat.

“Kuheum. From what This One sees, Sword Dragon, you’re not entirely in the wrong. Everyone must pass through such trials once… But your approach to martial arts is just far too different from Hwi’s.”

“Pardon?”

“The wall you just hit—Hwi had to overcome that one first. Meanwhile, what you passed easily may appear to Hwi as a towering cliff.”

Namgung Jong had grown up in a good home, learned excellent martial arts, and carried the expectations of his family. He worked to meet those expectations—and produced real results.

“Meanwhile, Hwi found himself suddenly cast among bloodied blades. He swung his sword to survive. It was the same for This One, and probably the same for most of the unorthodox faction.”

“Well, yes. My first wish when I picked up a sword was just to have a full meal.”

As I nodded, Seorin shrugged as if to say, “See?”

“People like Hwi or This One know all too well why we train in martial arts—feel it with every breath. We had a reason first, and martial arts were merely the method to reach it. But Sword Dragon, you were the opposite.”

You start by picking up the sword. You build a body fit for martial arts while your energy channels are open. You train quickly to get ahead of others. Why you wield the sword—that comes later.

“That’s how most prestigious clans pass on and develop their martial arts. In a sect, if things go wrong, they can just name another promising disciple as the successor. But in a clan, direct bloodline is everything.”

Come to think of it, that was true. A sect can just accept a new disciple or choose the next strongest.

But a clan is different. Having more children isn’t easy, and even if they did, power struggles would only intensify.

Failure in raising a successor isn’t an option. So, they start by placing a sword in the child’s hand. It all makes sense now.

“It was the same in the Seo Mun Clan. This One learned the basics, but didn’t take interest beyond that. Because This One didn’t understand why continuing into the clan’s sword arts mattered.”

“I wasn’t in line to become the clan head, and as a woman, few reprimanded me… But it’s a different story for you, Sword Dragon.”

He probably charged forward without even the luxury to question it—and only when he hit a wall did he stop to look back and wonder where things had gone wrong.

“If you find your own reason, Sword Dragon, you’ll leap over your current wall in an instant. But with Hwi, it’s the opposite.”

“What do you mean, the opposite—?”

I answered in Seorin’s place.

“He wields the sword with complete will. But… he doesn’t know what to put into that sword.”

“What are you saying? Brother Cheon, the martial art you showed at the end was ferocious, but it wasn’t shallow. Surely it had meaning at its core…?”

“It doesn’t.”

“…?”

“To me, a sword is simply a tool to kill. Swordsmanship is just the technique used to cut people down.”

“What do you…?”

“Of course, some martial arts I’ve learned do carry intent, meaning. But that’s the creator’s, not mine.”

If I had to say what lies at the heart of my martial path—it’s kill. But I have no desire to become a bloodthirsty demon.

“I like swords. I wield them by my own will. But if you ask why—there’s no grand answer. I swing because it’s necessary.”

“Wait—don’t tell me…?”

Namgung Jong looked flabbergasted, and Seorin nodded beside him.

“Now do you see? If you were too focused on your destination to look back, Sword Dragon, Hwi is the one who stood up by himself but has no idea where to go or how to get there.”

“Isn’t that much more difficult?!”

“Which is why, more Flowering Stage martial artists appear from the orthodox side.”

“Still… even in the unorthodox factions, you see Flowering Stage experts emerge.”

“Exactly. Like This One, who reclaimed the clan’s martial arts, resumed training, and reached the Flowering Stage. Most who make it do so by finding some secret art somewhere.”

After saying that, she started throwing glances at me.

Even so, I had no intention of learning the Seo Mun Clan’s techniques seriously. If she offered, I might reference them—but that’s it.

When I gave no reaction, she sagged her shoulders in disappointment and continued in a pouty voice.

“If not that, then you’d have to reach enlightenment on your own. In that case, your martial arts would already be entering the realm of divine arts.”

“That was my plan from the beginning.”

I shrugged. Seorin pouted even more.

But it’s not mere stubbornness. Okay, maybe a little, but I arrived at that conclusion for a reason.

Ultimately, the final wall I have to overcome is not about cultivation level—it’s the Heavenly Demon himself.

And the Heavenly Demon was a being even combined Flowering Stage martial artists couldn’t handle.

Let’s say, for example, that I managed to learn the Limitless Sky Blade Art or Sovereign Sword Form here in the Namgung Clan and reached the Flowering Stage.

Would that change anything? I don’t think so.

The Sword King was a great martial artist, but not even he could stop the Heavenly Demon.

Even if I swung my sword with madness until that day of invasion, could I surpass the Sword King?

The Heavenly Demon Divine Art… I’m not even sure that thing qualifies as martial arts.

Sure, it used internal energy, but the scale was monstrous—it could cover the sky, and precisely harm targets without damaging buildings. Is that even really internal energy?

No matter how powerful he was, to defeat so many Flowering Stage masters without leaving a scratch—it’s just too suspicious.

In the past, I thought maybe he was just some godlike genius or perhaps had reached a level even beyond Flowering Stage, like those legends of transcendents.

But after regression and slowly uncovering the schemes of the Demonic Cult, I realized the truth.

The Heavenly Demon must’ve spent years preparing for the invasion—finding weaknesses and counters to other martial arts, perhaps through some unknown method.

Which means I need to become the variable he didn’t account for. As many variables as possible.

That includes my martial arts too, of course.

The problem is, all of this assumes I can build that kind of martial power before he arrives.

I know it’s difficult. But I must do it.

Though Seorin once told me not to rush… I could feel myself getting anxious again and had to force it down as I opened my mouth.

“Shall we spar once more? This time, from the start—at full strength, with the sword we’re most confident in.”

“That’s quite tempting. But… since there are others waiting, how about we save that for a bit later?”

“Others waiting…?”

Even after losing in pure swordsmanship, even after realizing what had been unconsciously holding him back all this time, Namgung Jong’s eyes hadn’t dimmed.

He stood there like the open sky—accepting everything and ready to move forward again.

Seeing that, I became even more certain.

Namgung Jong is better suited for the Limitless Sky Blade Art than the Sovereign Sword Form.

“Very well. After you’ve made a round and come back for a second bout with me, it’ll be just about sunset.”

“And tomorrow?”

“If you’re available, I’d like to spar all day tomorrow too… Will that be alright?”

“I can spar all day, no problem.”

We exchanged glances and nodded in sync.

Afterward, Namgung Jong sparred with Tang Sowol and Seol Lihyang, then fought me again, even seeking advice from Seorin.

The next day followed a similar pattern. And the day after that. And the one after.

In the middle of all that, Tang Sowol would ask whether the duel or she was better, Seol Lihyang would freeze the door handle of my room demanding my attention before lunch, and even elders of the Namgung Clan would occasionally peek into the training grounds upon hearing that Namgung Jong was spending the entire day there with a guest…

But those things weren’t what mattered.

What mattered happened on the fourth day of our stay as guests of the Namgung Clan.

Hwangbo Gwang, who we thought had already left, came crashing through the front gate.

With a presence utterly different from before—and both fists soaked in blood.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep